


...and then I was alone

by bigblueboxat221b



Series: How Does Your Marriage Work? [6]
Category: Come From Away - Sankoff & Hein
Genre: After Gander, Airports, Awkward Conversations, Decisions, Don't copy to another site, Friends to Lovers, Kind Strangers, Musicals, They didn't kiss in Gander
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 03:34:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20203039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigblueboxat221b/pseuds/bigblueboxat221b
Summary: Once they arrive back in Dallas, Nick and Diane go their separate ways. Nick has second thoughts about letting her go. This is three scenarios in which he tries to fix his mistake.





	1. Following Diane Through Customs

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is not RPF  
While Nick and Diane in the musical are based on real people, this story is set strictly in the fictional representation of them in the musical, ‘Come From Away’. I haven’t done any research into their personal lives, and anything further than what is canon in the musical is completely made up, with the exception of some geographical details. This is not intended to represent the real life couple in any way, their thoughts, attitudes or actions. It’s just my brain saying, ‘what if?’, as it does to every story that resonates with me.

A thought pulsed in Nick’s head as he watched Diane turn towards customs, foggy and indistinct. Watching her go was almost physically painful. He felt his mouth grow dry, and the pulsing in his head grew and changed, but he didn’t notice. It was somehow more difficult to breathe, and when she turned a corner he gasped, drawing a deep, shuddering breath.

The oxygen flooded his system, crashing the cacophony in his head into crystal clear understanding.

_I love her._

Nick blinked, bracing for the doubt that had plagued him at every personal relationship he had attempted to forge in his life, but none came. Diane was perfect, and he was in love with her. As soon as he accepted that – only half a dozen elevated heartbeats after he’d recognised it – a new thought came to him, far more urgent than the last.

_What am I doing here?_

With a start, he strode in the direction of customs, heart pounding even faster.

_I have to find her._

He’d miss his flight home.

_I have to find her._

Head office would not be happy.

_I have to find her._

If he didn’t, _he_ would not be happy.

_I have to find her._

But-

_No. I have to find her._

Arriving at the customs line, Nick let out a groan of frustration. There were separate lines for American passport holders and international arrivals. He could see Diane’s head in the American queue, and as much as it galled him to wait, he joined the line for international passports. It was agony, watching each line move through the gates. The American line moved a little faster, and Nick’s heart was thumping hard when he realised she would certainly be through faster than he.

He must have made a noise of some kind, because the man in front of him turned around. Nick’s focus was on Diane, so it wasn’t until he was being thumped on the shoulder that he blinked, looking at the man speaking to him.

“Ah! The amorous one from the plane, no?” The man was grinning broadly, his French accented English heavy with meaning.

“What?” Nick said, startled.

“You and your lover! You were very happy on the plane from Gander, no?” He frowned, looking around. “But she is not here!”

“You mean Diane?” Nick said. He was trying to follow Diane’s progress as well as the conversation of this man who apparently was so desperate to talk about the plane ride home. “She’s American. In the American line.”

“And you are not?”

“No, I’m British.”

Nick glanced over, seeing the man’s confused face. There was no escaping this conversation, so he might as well spell it out for him. “We met in Gander. I’m supposed to be flying home, but I need to…speak to her first.” He felt his face colour at his own words, but the sensation deepened when the man read so clearly through the lines.

“You love her!” he said, clapping happily. His expression changed to one of alarm. “She does not know?”

Nick shook his head miserably. His heart sank as he saw Diane move up in line – there was only one person ahead of her now, while a dozen people still separated him from the customs officer at the start of his line.

“But you cannot wait!” Nick’s new friend cried. Taking Nick’s arm, he started pushing past the people in front of them, speaking in rapid French. His classroom French was a long, long time ago, but Nick recognised enough to understand that he was explaining some version of what was happening. To Nick’s astonishment, everyone stepped aside for them, gasps of surprise turning into excited chatter as he was escorted to the front of the line.

“Find her,” the French man said to Nick, tears in his eyes, “find her and make something good come from all of this.”

Nick nodded, stepping forward as the customs officer motioned him to the desk. Trembling, he handed over his passport, resisting the urge to glance towards the American line.

“Purpose of your visit to the United States?”

Nick blinked.

“Sir, what is the purpose of your visit to the United States?”

With a deep breath, Nick blurted, “We were diverted to Canada, I was coming here for work, but I met Diane and I need to tell her I love her before I go back.”

The customs officer looked at him blankly. “I beg your pardon?”

“I was coming here for work,” he said. “A conference. It was cancelled, and I was in Canada…” he sighed. “My boss is going to kill me for this.”

“You need to enter the United States to tell a woman you just met that you love her?” the officer repeated. “And you met…in Canada?”

“Yes,” Nick replied. “Our plane was diverted.”

Convinced he was going to be turned back, Nick’s head dropped. He would just have to call Diane when he arrived home, as they’d planned.

Without a word, the stamp fell on his passport. Nick looked up, speechless. “You probably should run,” the officer said. “Welcome to the United States of America.”

He mumbled some kind of startled thanks, and as he moved through the gates, a cheer went up from the French tourists behind him. Nick raised one hand in a wave, already searching for Diane. She would have certainly passed through customs before him. The crowd swirled, and to Nick’s frustration, he almost immediately had to decide – left or right? Which was would Diane have taken?

Before he could decide, the crowds parted for a moment, and a row of seats was visible.

_Diane._

She was sitting on the end seat, her suitcase beside her, head in her hands.

Nick’s heart sped up. Was she crying? His doubts flared up again, wondering if he should try and comfort her. He didn’t want to intrude, although it had turned out pretty well last time. And wasn’t that the point of him being here?

_Do it. Seize the moment._

With a deep breath, Nick moved closer. He could see her shoulders shaking now, and before he could think about the right thing to say or do, his hand was in his pocket, and he was sitting beside her, offering his handkerchief.

“Diane?” he said tentatively.

She turned automatically at her name, but froze when she saw him. Nick couldn’t tell if the look on her face was good or bad; he tried for a small smile, feeling the blood rush in his ears as he waited the interminable seconds before she reacted.

“What are you doing here?” The words were whispered, but Nick heard them clearly. He passed over his handkerchief and she took it absently, her eyes not leaving his face. Nick swallowed hard and remembered the despair as she’d walked away. That was why he was here. He didn’t ever want to feel that way again, if he could help it. But he had to take a risk.

Shaking, he took her hands in his, watching her face for any sign his advances were not welcome. He saw shock, and a flare of hope that sparked his own courage into flame.

“I love you,” he said simply. All the explanations he’d considered while waiting in customs fell away, and the truth came out instead, bare and unadorned. It was either the right thing or the wrong thing, but he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

Anxiously, he scanned her face for a reaction.

With a relieved, “Oh!” Diane wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him through her tears. He found his own arms cradling her, and suddenly they were both smiling, foreheads pressed together as they looked at each other.

“I love you, too,” Diane replied.

Before he could respond, a shout rang out. “You found her!”

Nick and Diane both turned as a dozen voices cheered from remarkably close by. Wincing, Nick recognised his French friend, surrounded by the rest of his tour group.

“_Merci beaucoup, mon ami_!” Nick called, and the group cheered again before slowly walking past them. Most of the group offered smiles or winks, and Nick returned each, amused at their investment in his little drama.

“Who on earth was that?” Diane asked. She’d slipped her hand into his, and he marvelled at how very right it felt.

“Just someone I met in the customs line,” Nick told her. “Why don’t I tell you…” he trailed off, uncertain what would happen now. He hadn’t planned any further than this, not wanting to tempt fate by daring to assume things might go well.

“Tell me in the taxi,” Diane said. She leaned over to kiss him again. “We have time.”


	2. Phoning From The Airport

Nick stared into his coffee. It was exactly what he expected from airport coffee, but he was still disappointed, somehow. Leaving the half empty cup on the table, he picked up his suitcase, stepping away from the dining area, restless but with little to do until his rescheduled flight was due to board in two hours. He wandered along, past the shops without really seeing anything. Voices swirled around him, and he realised most of the accents he heard were the broad Texas twang that reminded him of Diane.

And there was the problem.

_Diane._

He missed her already. Their farewell was as awkward as he feared, the clichéd, “I’ll call you,” falling from his mouth before he’d really considered how it might sound. He had every intention of calling her – would have done already if it he didn’t suspect it might look a little desperate. Nick had little doubt that his every waking moment would be thinking about Diane for a long, long while.

He stopped walking, blinking to see where he’d ended up. A clear glass wall blocked his way, defining those who had and had not passed through security on the way to customs. As he watched, people embraced, kissed, cried; farewells were made, tears fell. For all his experience travelling, the scene was alien to him. How long had it been since there had been someone to farewell, let alone come to the airport? Nick couldn’t remember. He worked a lot, and travelled a lot…it didn’t leave him much time to meet people.

Until Gander. Until his enforced leave from work and his life, giving him little choice but to stop and focus on the people around him. From that chance meeting on the plane, Diane’s face had been familiar, and he’d wanted to help her, at least initially. But she’d turned out to be fun, compassionate, single…and beyond all his wildest dreams, interested in him. It was like stepping into an alternate universe for five precious days, far from the troubles of the world. But nothing could last forever, and now he was here, watching a young couple embrace, swaying together in an unselfconscious display of affection, right there in the middle of the airport.

A burst of jealousy, hot and sharp in his belly, took Nick by surprise. He watched as one of the couple passed through the doors, turning immediately to wave again through the glass before finally walking up the ramp towards security. Why was he jealous? He’d seen dozens of people say goodbye, impatiently stepping around them on his way through a dozen airports around the world. Never had there been so much as a glance towards them, wondering ‘what if…’ And now he was standing here, wishing he could be in their shoes.

A reckless thought burst into his head. He could be in their shoes. His boss had asked him to return to England when he could, anticipating disruption to the usual schedule of flights, especially through the United States. Nick had interpreted that as ‘return immediately’, but possibly…

His heart began to beat faster, and he swallowed. Diane’s name and phone number were in his pocket. Surely he could call her from the airport. And then what, his brain asked him. What exactly would you say? Nick frowned. He had no idea what he would say. Surely, though, surely…would Diane want him to call so soon? She had suggested having him over while he was in Dallas, before he’d explained that he was expected back in England as soon as possible. Perhaps, given the way they’d spent the subsequent flight, she would be amenable?

Without thinking too much, Nick glanced around. He remembered seeing a bank of payphones not too far away, but he had few American coins. He found himself standing before the phones, looking down and muttering to himself, wondering if the combination he was holding would suffice.

“Need some quarters, doll?” A voice came from beside him.

“I beg your pardon?” Nick replied. The woman had a kind face, and she was pointing to a bowl sitting on top of the phones with a handwritten sign.

_Quarters to call home. Tell them you love them on us._

Nick stared, the words resonating deep within him. Without thinking he said, “I love her.”

“Well call her, honey, and tell her!” The woman was still there, and her exasperation was tinged with the kind of easy fondness Nick now associated with Newfoundland.

She was right, though. A quick smile to her, and Nick stepped forward, taking a couple of quarters, finding Diane’s phone number in his wallet. He punched in the number, his fingers moving faster than he thought they should; time seemed to be moving fast and slow, and before he knew it the phone was at his ear, braying in his ear as it rang.

Three rings…four…

“Hello?” Diane answered, Nick would have recognised her voice even without the follow up, “this is Diane speaking.”

His breath caught in his throat, mouth open but non-functional.

“David?” Diane’s voice sounded again, and the hope in her voice prompted him to speak.

“It’s Nick,” he said, the words stilted. He breathed shallowly, waiting for her to reply.

“Nick?”

“I…yes.” His voice was still strained, and the panic started to rise in him.

“Aren’t you meant to be on a flight by now?”

“Almost,” Nick agreed. Glancing at the sign, _Tell them you love them…_ he took a deep breath. “I was considering…I could book a flight for tomorrow. Or…later. Maybe.”

“Tomorrow?” Diane repeated.

“Or…well, yes, or…” he took a deep breath. “If you didn’t have any plans, perhaps I could…” Nick faltered, closing his eyes as words failed him. He silently begged her to understand him.

“Please,” Diane said, her voice thick, “please come over. I’ll…we can have dinner.”

“Yes,” Nick replied, relief coursing through his veins. “Just let me find my pen…”

Ten minutes later he was through the airport and into a taxi. The ride out to Diane’s home was interminable; he had no idea how he survived the stress. Nick supposed the taxi driver tried to make conversation, but he was too nervous to respond with any enthusiasm. He wasn’t familiar with this area of Dallas, and when the taxi slowed he wasn’t quite prepared. His heart kicked up into a higher cadence immediately.

“Thank you,” Nick said, remembering to hand the driver a tip before he stood on the pavement – _sidewalk, they call it a sidewalk, remember?_ – staring up at Diane’s house. He had no idea if he was doing the right thing, or what the right thing even was. But he’d come this far, and Diane invited him, so…with a deep breath, he started up the path, his suitcase click-clacking along the concrete. Five steps, and he was standing on the porch.

Heart pounding, Nick raised his hand to knock, but the door flew open before he could, and she was there, eyes red, face full of hope.

“You’ve been crying,” he said without thinking.

She shrugged, a noise halfway between laugh and sob bursting out. “You were gone,” she choked out, and the vulnerability in that statement washed all his doubts away.

“I love you,” he whispered, and they both stepped forward at the same time, meeting in the middle. When the kiss finally broke, Diane’s face radiated happiness.

“I love you too,” she said. “I’m so glad you called.”

“I can’t stay forever,” Nick said. They were still standing in her doorway, arms around each other. He had no idea why he’d brought that up. “I still live in London.”

“I know,” Diane replied. She loosened her arms and stepped back, and Nick was confused until she smiled. “Won’t you come in?”


	3. Criss-Cross

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read a novel series once, and they had this excellent reference that listed phone numbers in numerical order so if you had someone's phone number you could find their address. I don't know if it was real or a literary device to help the detective find stuff out in 1986, but I've lifted the idea for this story. Thanks, Ms. Grafton.

“You okay there, hon?”

Nick blinked at the woman opposite. She’d appeared out of nowhere, a smiling face now waiting for him to reply.

“Yes, fine,” he lied, hoping she’d go away. To his dismay, she seated herself opposite instead, settling in for a conversation.

“I recognise you from our plane,” she said. From her accent, she was a local, Nick thought. He wondered why she was still hanging around on this side of customs.

“Yes,” Nick said. She was vaguely familiar, but he’d hardly been paying attention on the flight to Dallas. “Are you…do you live in Dallas?”

“Yes,” she said, shrugging. “Just thought I’d stay on this side of security in case anyone needed help with anything.”

Nick felt immediately guilty for whishing she would leave him alone. She was only trying to be kind. Even after all that happened in Gander, he still wasn’t used to people being kind for no particular reason.

“Where’s your wife?” she asked.

“We’re not married,” Nick answered automatically.

“Could have fooled me,” she said, amused. Recognition flooded her face, and she pointed at Nick. “You’re that Englishman, the one the Texan kissed at the party!”

“Yes,” Nick admitted. He knew he was flushing, remembering that night. It seemed so far away now, like everything that happened in Gander. “Diane. Her name’s Diane.”

“Did you meet in Gander?” she asked him.

“Yes,” he said, feeling a self-conscious smile spread across his face as he remembered how they’d become close. “We were very lucky to have that time together.”

“Very lucky?” the woman said, grinning at him. “You make your own luck, hon. And if she’s half as smitten as you are,” she made an indulgent face at him, “you’ll have plenty of time to come.”

The casual assumption that their relationship would continue into the future tugged at Nick’s heart. Right now he had no idea where they stood. She’d left, passing through customs without him, back to her life here in Dallas…and he was heading back across the Atlantic. So.

“Well, Diane’s American, and I’m English, so…” he shrugged it off.

“So?” she said impatiently. “Are you going to see her again?” her face lit up. “Is she from Dallas?”

“Yes,” he said, not sure which of her questions he was answering. “But I’m expected back to London.”

“Really?” the woman said. “I mean, you can’t take a few extra hours?”

Nick opened and closed his mouth. “I…don’t know,” he said slowly. The idea hadn’t occurred to him. Doing what his company asked was second nature, and the idea of deliberately misunderstanding wasn’t something he’d considered.

“Look,” the woman told him, and Nick felt his eyebrows rise at the intense look she was giving him. “You live in London. She lives in Dallas. You are _in_ Dallas.” She swatted him on the shoulder. “So what are you doing here at the airport?”

He blinked, unsure if she expected an answer or not. “I…don’t know.”

“This is your chance,” she urged him.

“To what?” he asked. The look on her face was slightly alarming.

“To tell her how you feel about her!” she said brightly.

“How I…oh no,” Nick said, the alarm rising quickly as he realised what she was saying. “I only met her five days ago!”

“Oh honey,” she said, “time doesn’t mean anything in matters of the heart.”

Nick stared at her. Was he hallucinating this whole conversation? If he was, why on earth was his brain choosing this, of all things? Was he still in Gander, dreaming all this?

“Do you have her address?”

Automatically, Nick shook his head. “Just her name and phone number.”

To his surprise, she brightened. “Stay right here,” she urged him. He sat, uncertain how to end this conversation without offending her. She spoke to the man behind the bar, and he passed her two heavy books. Were they telephone books? She dropped them on the table, beaming at him.

“We can use the criss-cross!”

“The…what?” he asked, confused.

“The criss-cross!” she said. “It lists phone numbers in numerical order.” Nick’s heart kicked up on its own as he understood what she was implying. “We can look up her phone number and it will give you her address.”

She was looking at him expectantly, and Nick found himself opening his wallet, finding the slip of paper on which Diane had penned her phone number. He passed it over, waiting with shallow breaths as she searched.

“Ha!”

Her triumphant noise startled him, and she passed the book over. He looked down where she was pointing, but the abbreviated address made little sense to him.

“I’ll write it out for you,” she told him, pulling out a pen and a napkin. “Your taxi driver’ll know how to get there.”

“Hang on,” Nick said, head whirling. “I haven’t said I’m going anywhere.”

“You mean you’re not?” she said, pausing. “You’re not going to go see her?”

Nick looked at her helplessly. “I wouldn’t know what to say,” he admitted.

She looked at him with the kind of fond exasperation he associated with other people’s aunts and grandmothers. “You won’t need to say anything,” she told him, one hand patting him on the hand, the other passing him the napkin. “Just look at her. She’ll know.”

“She will?” Nick asked doubtfully. He still couldn’t believe he was having this conversation.

“Oh believe me,” she said confidently, “she will.”

Nick looked at her helplessly.

“She kissed you at the party, didn’t she?”

“Well, yes,” Nick replied slowly. “That might have been the alcohol, though.”

“Alcohol just lowers inhibitions,” she said, as though explaining something to a small child. “It wouldn’t make her do something she didn’t want to do.”

Nick frowned, feeling like there should be more to it, but not wanting to examine it too closely. “Really?” he asked. He couldn’t believe how much he was relying on this woman’s encouragement, but somehow she seemed to exude confidence in him. It was an unfamiliar feeling, but Nick could feel himself taking some of it on for himself, tentative as it was.

Carefully, he folded the napkin bearing Diane’s address. “So the taxi driver will know?” he said with a hesitant smile.

With a squeal, she jump up, hugging him before looking him right in the eye. “Honey, this is the best decision you’ve ever made.”

Nick wasn’t sure that was entirely true, but he felt committed now. He hadn’t booked an ongoing flight to England; the queues were huge, and he’d felt too restless to stand in line for hours. Right now he was grateful, and he flashed a smile at the woman as he stood, picking up the handle of his suitcase.

“Thank you,” he said, as much for her patience and kindness as for suggesting the criss-cross.

“God bless you,” she said, patting his hand and picking up the criss-crosses.

It wasn’t until he was sitting in a taxi, rubbing damp palms down his trousers that Nick realised he didn’t have her name. He’d never asked – and she didn’t know his either. It was as close to a guardian angel experience as he’d ever had. Before this week, he would have dismissed it as fantasy, an impractical waste of energy. Now, though…he felt different after his time in Gander. Like perhaps impracticalities might have a place after all.

The taxi moved slowly, or so it felt; Nick could have asked how long it would take, but his mouth was too dry to speak. What was he going to say? Would Diane even be home? The woman at the airport seemed quite certain that he wouldn’t have to say anything, but he couldn’t just show up and not say anything. What if Diane just looked at him?

As they moved through increasingly suburban streets, Nick felt his nerves draw tighter and tighter. He swallowed, made sure to breathe deeply and slowly, pushing against the tightness in his chest. When the taxi finally pulled up, he still felt unprepared.

“Here y’go,” the driver prompted, and Nick scrambled for his wallet, giving the driver a handful of money. He dragged his suitcase out and stood in front of the house, vaguely aware of the car behind him pulling away. Taking a moment, Nick looked at the wide front porch, considering his approach. As his eyes roamed, he saw something that made him freeze. A swing hung from one side of the porch, and as he watched, a figure shifted, the same action that had caught his eye the first time.

_Diane._

His heart contracted.

She was there. Sitting on the swing. He made to move, but before he could take more than a step, more registered. More about her body language. She took a deep breath, face buried in her hands – this was the action he’d see earlier. Was she crying? As he stepped hesitantly closer, Nick could see her shoulders shaking. She was crying. The street was quiet; barely a car or a sound, and his suitcase sat forgotten as he walked towards the porch. He could hear her now, the helpless sobs renting his heart. Was it David? She’d spoken to him in Gander, but things could change… what would make her so upset in such a short space?

He was only a few steps from the porch when her sobs subsided somewhat. Her sigh was full of regret, and he was startled to hear his own name. “Oh, Nick.”

He froze. He watched as she tipped to the side, lying down, tucking her feet up, hands beneath her cheek. Her face was flushed, and there was still a frown marring her brow. From this close, he could see tears tracking sideways on her face.

Was she crying because…no. Really? Because he was gone? Surely not. His brain whirred back and forth between it being possible and impossible until he silently shouted at himself to _go and find out!_

“Diane?” Nick asked. He rested one hand on the rail, not sure enough yet to start up the steps.

She frowned again, and he wondered if she’d heard him. Tentatively he moved up the steps, standing on the top step, still watching her.

“Diane?” he asked again, a little louder this time. She shifted restlessly, but her eyes were still closed and he thought she might have fallen asleep.

“Diane?” He felt a little silly, now having said her name three times in a row, but he wasn’t sure what else to do. It might frighten her if he moved too close, or touched her, so he stayed where he was, fingers twisting nervously together. This time she was still for a long beat, but a deep sigh left her and she sat up. She looked defeated, and when her eyes opened and landed right on his, Nick’s heart skipped a beat.

“Hello, Nick,” she said, but her tone was resigned, eyes still full of tears.

“Hello,” he replied, not sure what he should say. The woman at the airport was quite adamant that she would know why he was here so he stood still, the silence excruciating. He had no idea how to break it, even if he’d had the courage.

“I wish you were really here,” she said, her voice a strained whisper.

“What do you mean?” he said, frowning.

“I wish you could stay,” she said, her smile startlingly sad and beautiful at the same time. “England is a long way away.”

“It is,” Nick said carefully. He had the impression something wasn’t quite right about this conversation but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I wish I could have told you before you left.”

Nick frowned.

“Told me what?”

Another sad smile, equally beautiful in his eyes, and she said simply, “I’ve fallen in love with you.”

“You have?” Nick whispered.

She nodded then said, “But you’re on a plane back to England, and I’m dreaming, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh,” Nick breathed. He hesitated for a moment before stepping forward one step, then another, until he was standing beside the swing. Carefully, he sat down beside her. Her eyes had grown wide as he approached, and when his weight shifted the swing, her hand went to her mouth, eyes pinned on him.

“I’m not on a plane,” he said, heart pounding. “And you’re not dreaming.”

A long, slow breath, and one hand reached out, trembling as it landed on his chest.

“Oh!”

The sound was tiny and clearly involuntary. Nick sat very still as she processed that he was here, really sitting beside her.

“You’re…really here,” she whispered. The other hand left her mouth, settling on the curve of his jaw, and he smiled.

“I am,” he said.

She smiled at him as a brilliant red flushed up her cheeks.

“Oh!”

Her hands made to cover her face, but Nick pressed his own hand over the back of her, holding it gently to his face. He looked into her eyes, drinking them in. “I love you too,” he said quietly. “That’s why I came back.”

She nodded, swallowing, and Nick’s eyes followed the movement, settling on her mouth as it parted. He shifted forward, but hesitated, eyes flicking up to seek approval. Her eyes were still as wide, still as beautiful; now, her hand on his cheek was drawing him in, and as they kissed on her front porch, sealing their newly discovered love, Nick reflected that the woman at the airport might have had a point.

This was the best decision he had ever made.


End file.
